Gillian Saga I - Atalanta
by monica.prelooker
Summary: A threat is received at Boston's TPU, so Reg Gillian calls her friend Morgan for help, dragging all the BAU team along for the ride. Hotch and Gillian will come face to face for the first time, with all they have in common and their huge differences. ATALANTA is the first of the Gillian Saga's seven episodes.
1. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Teaser 1-2

_"__Tell me how to make right_

_Every wrong turn that I've learned_

_So this can all end tonight."_

It's a small office, only four desks, three of them vacant now. At the only one occupied, Regan Gillian is working on her reports, reading glasses on. 40, piercing blue eyes framed by dark hair collected in a disheveled bun, flocks dropping off it, she's wearing a very plain white shirt, jeans, boots.

Above her head, on the wall, a label reads "BOSTON PD – TERRORISM PREVENTION UNIT". The clock reads 10.30 pm.

The elevator booth opens to a tall 16-year-old boy bringing take out in a plastic bag. He walks past the glass doors straight to Gillian's desk and drops the bag right before her, startling her up.

"Connor, son…", she mutters.

"Since you didn't come home for dinner," he says.

"Yeah, sorry…"

Connor sits at the next desk as Gillian takes the food from the bag and gives him half of it. They eagerly attack dinner.

"Still working?" Connor asks. "Sorry to break it to you, mom, but OBL is already down." Gillian scoffs. Connor glances at her computer. "Let me guess: the explosion in Dorchester. Again."

Gillian nods grimacing. "Yeah… I still feel something's off about it."

"It's a bad area, mom."

"Exactly. Those pretty boys shoot each other and may stab each other, but they don't go around blowing each other's houses."

"Thought it was ruled a gas leak…"

"Well, hell of a timing for a leak, going off when only the gang leader was home."

A beep from her computer catches her attention: an incoming email. She reads it and frowns. Then she pats Connor's arm, eyes still on her screen. "Read this a call me a paranoid," she grunts.

Connor rolls his chair to Gillian's desk, reads, rolls back to the other desk and starts typing on the computer. Gillian is already on the phone.

Captain Cook, with the Boston Police Department, wakes up in a jolt to his phone ringing. He turns on the lamp on the bedside table, checks the time, picks the phone cursing under his breath. "Cook…"

"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you this late, but we just received a threat."

Cook scowls at the quick speech on the other end of the line, glances over her shoulder to make sure his wife is still sleeping, manages it to sound as pissed as he is while keeping his voice down. "Gillian? You're still at the office?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go home to your son, Gillian, please."

"Sir, I think what we just received is a direct threat to this unit."

_Counter-terrorism_, Cook thinks, like it's an insult. "Was it flagged by the system?"

"No, sir."

"Then it can wait until the morning."

"Sir, if you'd only give me your ok to go, I'll take care of it."

"Ok, but this better be real, Gillian. Another bluff and you're out of business."

Cook hangs up snorting and turns the light off.

No time for triumphant smiles. Gillian hangs up and joins Connor.

Her son shows her a map of the city with a red flag. "It was sent from here."

"Potential targets?"

Connor hits a key. "Ten."

"Shit. Find out what else did this bastard browse."

Connor resumes working on the computer while she makes another call. "This is lieutenant Gillian with the TPU, please issue an alert to the whole TPU team."

"They're so gonna hate you," Connor scoffs.

Gillian ignores him: you don't apply for a counter-terrorism unit if you like working 9 to 5. "And I need to speak to the FBI. Not the local field office. I need to reach SSA Derek Morgan in Quantico."

"Cook's so gonna fire you."

Her son's probably right: Cook hates feds. But Gillian isn't about to give a damn about what Cook likes or not.

Somewhere out in the city, in a small, messy kitchen, a man is sitting at a table stuffed with tools and wires. He's carefully welding wires to a cell phone circuit. By his hand, there's a small plastic pack reading "C-4".

No-one wants to even glance at the clock as they come into the BAU's conference room in Quantico, Virginia. Morgan and Garcia are already there, and Morgan waits for the whole team to sit at the round table to start.

"Thanks for coming, guys, sorry for the late call, but Boston's TPU needs our help."

"That's the Terrorism Prevention Unit, right?" Jennifer recalls.

"You've given lectures for them…," Rossi adds.

"Yeah, a one-week seminar, three months ago, when they put the unit together."

"What do we have?" Hotch asks. Morgan's been very brief on the phone, and he's called in the team trusting only in Morgan's guts, knowing he wouldn't ask for such a late meeting for nothing.

Garcia takes the baton. "Last week, the whole stock of C-4 was reported missing from the Boston PD Bomb Squad's quarters. The police is still looking into it, no leads this far, and tonight the TPU received an email with a threat. It's in your tablets."

"And that's why the unit chief called me," Morgan says.

While the team reads, Morgan turns to the screen. Garcia opens the window of a video conference.


	2. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Teaser 2-2

Back in Boston, Connor pats her mother and they hurry to sit before her computer. Garcia and Connor trade a wave and a smile.

Morgan sees them on screen and turns again to the team. "Guys, she's lieutenant Regan Gillian, TPU's unit chief. Reg, meet the BAU, you already know their names."

The team looks up at her, she flashes a quick, business smile. Gillian talks to them with a casual balance of familiarity and distance, and her first sentences draw for them a quick view of her: confident, efficient, intelligent. She's used to being in charge, but she has no problem acknowledging other people's expertise and asking for their help. That's why they're having this conversation.

"Good evening, agents. I'm very sorry for this, but I wouldn't have bothered agent Morgan if I didn't think this is serious."

"You received this email tonight?" Rossi asks.

"It was written at 5 pm, but programmed to be sent now, when only the regular alert systems are checking any incoming message."

Hotch turns to Garcia. "Garcia, trace back the-"

"They already did, sir," Garcia gently cuts him up with a proud little smile.

"It was sent from an internet café right outside the Financial District," Gillian explains, and turns to her son. "Connor?"

A map of Boston's Financial District appears on the BAU's screen, with one red dot and ten green flags. Morgan explains: "The red dot is the café, the green flags are banks, schools and other potential targets for a bombing around it."

Jennifer frowns. "If they're planning an attack in a commercial area, it's very unlikely to take place at midnight…"

"We think it's gonna be tomorrow morning, during the rush hour," Morgan replies.

Gillian nods. "And the threat was meant to be found at that time, too late for us to do anything to prevent it."

Rossi reads the email out loud: "_Ye have betrayed me; for never shall thy court be amended by me, but ye will never be sorry for me as I am for you_… this is very personal."

"Yes, we think it's a bomber for personal reasons," Morgan agrees.

"This is from _Le Mort d'Arthur_," Reid says. "It was written in the fourteenth hundreds by Sir Thomas Malory. But this quote is not accurate… It's supposed to be the king addressing Sir Gawain…"

"It actually goes _'never shall __**my**__ court be amended by __**you'**_," Gillian completes.

Reid looks up at her a little surprised. "You've read Malory?"

Gillian shakes her head smiling. "Never further than Steinbeck's incomplete translation, doctor. But I googled it, just like whoever sent it to us."

"You know the unsub googled it?" Jennifer asks —c'mon.

"Don't ask," Morgan smirks.

Those are the magic words for Hotch to look up at him waiting for an explanation. Morgan gives in: "Lieutenant Gillian's son is one of Garcia's online friends."

"Well, that explains it," Rossi admits, while Garcia flashes another proud little smile.

Hotch turns to Gillian on their screen. "Have you taken any measures?"

"My team is coming as we speak, and I asked the department to increase their presence in the area tonight."

Hotch words what the others are wondering: "Excuse me, lieutenant, but why do you think you need us?"

Morgan picks the glove: "The best way to get to the TPU is setting up an attack in their field. We think the unsub will use a bomb to cause the most of effect."

From Boston, Gillian seems to look straight into Hotch's eyes to say, death serious: "We're but a bunch of nerds and bombers here, agent Hotchner. But if some scumbag is about to hurt innocent people to get to us, I cannot sit and wait for it to happen, and then remove dead bodies trying to get some clues to find him: I really need the best brains to get ahead of him and nail the bastard right now, before he can hurt anybody. And that's your team, sir."

The defense rests.

The team turns to Hotch.

He reads the email once more and nods. "Wheels up in thirty," he says, already standing up to leave the room.

"Thank you so much, sir," Gillian gets to say to his back.

The team stands up.

"We're coming, lieutenant, but the bad coffee is on you," Rossi smiles.

"Only if you sign me your books, agent Rossi," Gillian smiles back.

Reid frowns at Rossi. "Do you have fans everywhere?"

Morgan winks at Gillian. "See you in a couple of hours, Reg."

Garcia and Connor trade another smile. "Good job, Pillbug," she says.

"See ya, Kitten." Connor ends the conference while the team leaves the room.

"_Kitten_?" Jennifer repeats.

"Heads up, Sam!" Morgan teases.

"It's just an online name!" Garcia argues.

"How old is he?" Rossi keeps going.

"Not old enough!" Jennifer says.

"Enough for what?" Reid asks.

They walk out still exercising a little humor, to let aside for a while that they're leaving their loved ones in the middle of the night, to chase some crazy bomber with a grudge, in possession of enough C-4 to bring down a couple of buildings.

In the messy kitchen, the man's done working. Now he carefully puts in his backpack the C-4 pack with a cell phone attached to it. Then he hangs it from his shoulder and walks out.


	3. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act One 1-4

_"__The world owes you nothing: it was here first" - Mark Twain_

While the jet pierces through light clouds, due north, Hotch comes to sit in front of Morgan. The others come around.

"Tell me about the TPU," he requests. If the threat is addressed to the TPU, they're the main part of the victimology. Knowing about them will tell the team what kind of unsub is targeting them.

Morgan is glad to oblige. The week he spent with the TPU in Boston was full of hard work and good times, since Gillian's expertise is combining both. So they would linger after class was over, killing him with questions for another three or four hours over pizza and beer, and laughing till their bellies ached.

He keeps nice memories of those days and these guys, as crazy devoted as any member of the BAU team, yet so different from them.

"It's a pilot project promoted by _King_ Gillian, Reg's father. He's an old time brass in Boston PD, and he started working on it after the Marathon bombing in 2013. He didn't get much support at first, but his political connections finally got him the bill to get it started."

"Is that why his daughter leads it?" Rossi asks. A legitimate question.

"That's what many people say, but I don't think so," Morgan replies. "Regan Gillian has 20 years in the force and a bright career in the toughest areas of the Department. The selection process for the unit was hard as hell, and she's unit chief because she got the best overall score."

"And what do her father's political adversaries think about that?" Rossi keeps on.

Morgan's answer is plain: "Many people would like to see the TPU fail and the project cancelled."

Jennifer considers. "If there's so much politics in this, we may be looking for an unsub inside the force…"

"Maybe," Rossi concedes. "But not amongst those interested in politics."

"How many agents in the unit?" Hotch asks.

"Six, including Gillian. Over a thousand candidates."

"If so many applied and were rejected, our unsub can be one of them," Reid says, taking a turn on what Jennifer said. "Think of the message. Whether the unsub relates to King Arthur or Sir Gawain, we're talking about very strong heroic figures."

"So he sees himself like a hero?" Jennifer frowns. "But bombers are generally socially submissive…"

"He may not fit the text book bomber, but rather be a killer using explosives as his weapon of choice," Hotch notes.

"He may feel outraged for being left out of this sort of elite group, where he thinks he rightfully belongs," Reid adds.

"And to take revenge, he wants to prove he's smarter than them," Rossi completes.

"That's why Gillian's so sure there's about to be an attack against civilian population, and that it's gonna be a bomb," Morgan says.

"Nerds and bombers," Rossi quotes. "That's how she described her unit. It's a curious choice of words."

Morgan smiles. "It's their private joke. They're all very competent and highly trained experts in their fields."

"Why was her son working with her on something like this?" Jennifer asks.

"That kid will soon make it to the hire-him-or-bust-him list nationwide, so Regan tries to have him using his skills in catching the bad guys."

Reminded of hackers, Hotch calls Garcia via computer.

"Command me, my liege."

"Garcia, we need a full list of everyone who applied for the TPU."

"At the speed of text, sir."

While Garcia pulls the list, Reid keeps elaborating: "Tech analysts are not physically aggressive. At least not as much as, for example, an explosives expert."

Garcia got the list. "It's a long list, sir. 1023 agent from different states and law enforcements."

"Leave out the tech analysts and the current TPU members," Hotch says.

"That's 591 agents, sir."

"How many with ATF background?" Morgan asks.

"342."

"Living in the Boston area?" Rossi asks.

"That narrows it, but they're still 86."

"Garcia, send us the list, with a copy to lieutenant Gillian. And run a background check on all of them," Hotch says.

"Thanks, _kitten_," Jennifer teases.

Garcia pouts. "JJ!"

Rossi smirks at her and disconnects.

"If the unsub really is an explosives expert, it's like a firefighter becoming an arsonist," Reid meditates. "He already knows all he needs to achieve his goal. Including response procedures…"

Hotch nods. All of them remember the shootings in New York, years ago. "That's why we need to find him."


	4. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act One 2-4

Gillian is sitting on a desk to explain the situation to her tam, gathered around her while Connor keeps working on her computer. Despite the hour, they're all very awake and focused on her words. They're two analysts, two explosives experts and a biochemist, their ages from 25 to 40. Like their unit chief, jeans and shirts or flannels seem to be their uniform. Gillian doesn't care about formal: she wants them efficient.

The BAU team walks out of the elevators and she hurries to welcome them and lead them to the conference room, while Morgan lingers to greet the TPU team one by one. All of them greet him with loud cheers and hugs.

The conference room is like the rest of the office: small but complete. And coffee is ready. Gillian fills five mugs for the BAU while she answers their questions.

Hotch opens the fire. "Lieutenant, did you check the list our analyst sent you?"

Gillian shakes her head, not even glancing at him. She's very aware this man is the best in his field, but she's not about to be intimidated by a suit and a scowl.

"Not yet. I was briefing my team and fixing it to join the patrols at the Financial District. I'll do it while at it."

Hotch scowls, not pleased at her negative —they need that done to start working. Rossi anticipates him: "Why are you joining the patrols, you think you can find something now?"

Gillian faces him with a quick nod. "I have the feeling that he's out there right now, when there's no activity downtown, planting the bomb as we speak. Maybe we can catch him, or find the bomb with our mobile scanners."

"How do you plan to canvas the area?" Reid asks.

She smiles at him. Reid gives her a good idea about how Connor is going to be ten years from now. "We're doing a sort of relay, cars starting the same route and back five minutes apart. Two police cruisers to cover the cross-streets."

"What's your kid up to, Reg?" Morgan asks, coming in.

"He's working with Penelope on a program to screen the online activity of the people in your list, looking for hints in emails or posts in social networks."

There's a knock on the door and one of the TPU's analyst shows at the door: Tanya, 25, the youngest member of the team and a dreadful hacker.

"This is our guy, Reg," she says, handing Gillian the picture of a man at a computer, his face hidden by a hood.

"Good job, T. Send it to the agents' tablets, please."

Jennifer takes the picture to pin it on the board while Tanya leaves.

Rossi steps closer to the board. "This is the unsub?"

Morgan's got Gillian and her team into some of the BAU's technicalities, so she knows what Rossi is saying. "Yes, our best shot from the café. Right now they're trying to find him on the streets and get a better shot."

Another knock and one of the explosives experts, Ron, comes in. "We're ready, Reg," he simply says, and leaves.

Hotch turns to his team. Garcia is working with the TPU analysts —and Gillian's civilian underage son, that's so many levels of illegal. There's no need of keeping the whole team here to start going through the files.

"Morgan, you and JJ help lieutenant Gillian with the patrols. Reid, help Garcia with a list of key words to speed up the search."

Morgan smiles at Gillian. "Hey, Reg! Are we hitting the streets together?"

"You wish!" she teases, wrapping her arm around his. "I need brains, not muscles, pretty face, so if agent Jareau is ok with it, I'm going with her."

Jennifer nods smiling as they leave.

Hotch watches them walking out. Gillian seems to be the kind of woman who doesn't get along well with other women, usually finding them a threat. They're used to work with men and know they're way around them. She looks like the type who gets what she wants with a careful mix of results and flirting. Yet she picked Jennifer, another hardworking, intelligent woman, both of them good-looking, both of them mothers. Assessing a possible rival? He will have to ask Jennifer about it later on.


	5. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act One 3-4

Reid follows them out of the conference room and approaches Connor, who's working with Garcia in one of his windows. She spots Reid standing there and smiles.

"Dr. Reid, meet my young padawan, Pillbug Connor. Pillbug, there you have a brain to challenge yours."

Reid and Connor trade a quick smile and Connor pulls a chair for Reid to sit by him.

From the conference room, Rossi watches the office sipping at his coffee, where the analysts are working like it were noon, not midnight, like the experts that just left. "They seem devoted to their work."

Hotch nods, not looking up from his tablet. "Driven," he agrees.

Rossi slowly nods. "Informal and efficient, a threat to old bureaucrats. And their coffee is good."

Garcia finishes typing. "Any other word that comes to your bottomless brains?"

Reid and Connor narrows their eyes, thinking. Reid shakes his head. "No, that would be it."

"Then it's all yours, Pillbug," Garcia smiles.

Connor spins his chair to Tanya and Kurt, the other analyst, working at their desks. "We're on!"

"Ok, I'm transferring all the feeds to you now." Tanya hits a key and Connor's screen gets flooded by security footage from a dozen street cameras.

The boy rubs his hands glancing at Reid. "Hold tight, do as I do and pretend it's a plan," he says.

Reid frowns. "That's from season 7's Christmas Special…," he says.

They smile at each other.

"I knew it!" Garcia rejoices. A click and she's gone.

Jennifer drives slowly down the silent, empty streets. At her right, Gillian is holding a small device she keeps moving from left to right.

"What's that?" Jennifer asks. "Some kind of scanner?"

Gillian nods. "Yes, Ron and Kurt made it. I don't know how it works, but it's supposed to beep within ten yards of a bomb."

"Supposed to…?"

Now Gillian flashes an apologetic smile. "This is our first real field test."

Jennifer keeps the conversation going. Just like Hotch, she's also curious about why Gillian picked her to patrol together, and this is a good chance to find out a little more about her. It's plain to see that Morgan respects her and treats her almost like a friend, which is a plus on her behalf, but profiler Jennifer wants to know more.

"Do you receive many threats or warnings at the TPU?"

Gillian conceals a smile. Profilers. She definitely likes them. She can smell what Jennifer is really asking about, but Gillian is just not about to tell her she's already seen them at work right here, in Boston, years ago. And she can't tell her either that Morgan told her about the other members of his team. So she knows in advance that Jennifer is bright, bold, devoted, a mother. And she's actually grateful for a chance to work with a woman like her. So she plays along.

"No. Some said that a unit to detect possible terrorist attacks would only increase our share of local nutjobs. Lucky us, they were wrong."

"That's like saying serial killers exist because of the BAU…"

"I know."

"Morgan said not everyone is happy about the TPU project…"

"That's because they're more interested in politics than in reality. I leave that to my father, I don't have time for old men's gossips. To make things worse, our last call turned out a bluff, and the one before that was ruled as a gas leak, despite the situation was screaming planning and preparation. So now my father's rivals are pretty much scrutinizing our every move."

"And you still called us? Wouldn't it be like saying your team cannot do your job without help?"

Gillian smiles, looking up at her. "I know our limits, agent Jareau, and unlike those suites behind their pretty desks, not caring about anything but their reputations for the next elections, I rather lose my job than risk innocent lives."

Jennifer nods, agreeing a 100%.


	6. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act One 4-4

Reid signals Hotch and Rossi through the inner window to join him. "We've found him," he says as they go to Gillian's desk.

They stand behind Connor with Tanya and Kurt, the boy shows them the same man from the café —the same hoodie, crouching down by a car, his face still hidden.

Rossi frowns. "He seems to be tying his shoes, but he's leaving something under that car…"

"Bad thing we only have a partial of the plate," Connor grunts.

Garcia's voice come from the computer's speakers. "I'm running the partial, a model would help."

Rossi grimaces: there's not much to make out. "Ford, sedan, four-doors…"

"Garcia, call Morgan and JJ," Hotch says.

Garcia links all the search vehicles to the conversation.

Morgan takes the call on speakers, scanning the streets as he drives very slowly and says, out of habit: "Talk to me, baby girl."

Connor, Tanya and Kurt glance at Hotch in open shock —baby girl? Hotch doesn't even blink. "We have an image of the unsub tempering a car earlier today in-?"

"Sudbury and Merrimac," Tanya hurries to complete. "Right outside the Café Metro."

Driving alone in his car, Hank, the biochemist, turns left in the first corner, saying: "I'm closer."

Gillian checks a map in her tablet and frowns. "Al, didn't you scan that block?"

From her car, Aldana, the other explosives expert, answers: "Yeah, ten minutes ago, no readings."

Gillian shoots her instructions: "Hank, keep going. Ron, you're on. Thanks, agent Hotchner."

Ron speeds up the TPU van, full of special equipment. "Coming."

Jennifer turns to Gillian. "We're not going?"

"No need. Ron has the heavy gear, he'll report if he finds anything."

Right then, Gillian's scanner starts beeping. Jennifer brakes saying: "Hotch, we found something."

"Morgan, go to JJ's location."

Jennifer and Gillian step out of the SUV. Jennifer stays by it looking up and down the street, while Gillian walks back past the SUV, scanning the cars.

The beep grows faster and Gillian kneels by a car and looks beneath it. Then she looks up at Jennifer and nods. Jennifer whispers on her radio: "We need back up. Cooper and Salem."

Both of them draw their guns as Gillian joins Jennifer. They stand back to back, each watching a corner.

"We need to step away from that car," Gillian whispers. "It's a small device, he has to be near to detonate it."

As they do so, around the corner, Morgan's SUV skids out of Parmenter St. into Salem St. His headlights fall on the man hiding right at the corner of Salem and Cooper St. The man glances over his shoulder and sprints away, past Cooper's corner. Morgan floors it, chasing him.

Fifty yards past Cooper St., the man runs skidding into Jerusalem Place.

Morgan's SUV drives right past behind him and squeals to a sharp stop. Morgan jumps out of it and sprints into the narrow alley. Jennifer is already running around from Cooper into Salem St., catching up.

The man reaches the end of the alley and vanishes in the shadows. Morgan halts to look around and jumps over the side fence to his right into a parking lot. Jennifer stays, searching the spot in case the man is hiding there.

Morgan looks around the parking lot and runs to the access from Margin St, calling in his radio: "JJ, go back to Salem St."

Jennifer does, but she comes out of the alley to the empty street. Just like Morgan when he runs out of the parking lot.

He looks up and down the deserted street, knowing he's lost the unsub for less than a blink, and grunts: "Dammit!"


	7. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act Two 1-4

The TPU's van is parked in Cooper St., across the street from the car with the explosive device, and Ron and Aldana are gearing up to remove the bomb, while Gillian and Hank watch from a safe distance.

Morgan comes from Margin St still snorting, annoyed, and shakes his head when Gillian turns to him. He strides past them, heading back to the corner where the man was hiding. Jennifer is already there.

At the TPU office, Hotch, Rossi and Reid are around the phone on Gillian's desk. Connor and the two techies are furiously working on their computers, going through security cameras' feeds in real time. Hotch turns to them. "Anything?"

"Can't find him!" Tanya says, flustered.

Kurt snorts. "Me neither! Where the hell did he go?"

"Keep looking," Hotch says. "Reid, help them. Garcia?"

"Sir?" she reports on the phone, checking her screens.

"Grant them access to as many cameras as you can."

"They already have it, sir." —they're hacking them, sir.

"Then help them search."

Jennifer waits for Morgan to join her.

"He was hiding here," he says. "Maybe he left something behind."

They turn on their flashlights and search the ground.

"We had already swept this street," Jennifer says. "Not twenty minutes ago."

"And you got no readings back then?"

"No, nothing. Here, look, what's this?"

Morgan crouches down by her, picking a tiny remote control. "He was just about to activate the bomb under the car," he grunts.

Jennifer looks up at the TUP van, then down Salem St., getting the picture.

"If you hadn't come this way…"

Morgan just nods, still upset.

Jennifer and Morgan head straight to the conference room, where the rest of the team is. He shows them the remote.

"That coward was just about to blow JJ and Reg."

"And he set the device while we were canvasing that street," she adds.

"Looks like he had a plan B ready," Rossi says. "He programmed the email not to set off any automatic alarm, but in case it didn't work, and somebody read it tonight, hours ago he pretended to place a bomb under the car at Sudbury St to lure away the van with the equipment to disable explosive devices."

Hotch nods. "Then he waited, and he sneaked in between the relays to plant the small bomb you found."

"And waited for some of us to detect it, hiding close enough to detonate it and kill whoever came close to it without the proper gear," Jennifer completes.

"But he didn't activate it, why?" Rossi argues.

Morgan shrugs. "I think he didn't see Reg. From the corner, he could only see JJ, and she wasn't close enough of the car to get more than a little bruised."

"And she's not with the TPU," Hotch points.

Reid nods, agreeing. "This unsub is not only extremely organized and patient: he also knows enough about the TPU to predict their movements."

"This night search was not standard procedure," Morgan notes. "It was Reg's idea."

Hotch words the obvious conclusion: "The unsub knows her."

"Maybe they worked together, and that's how he knew what she would do in this situation," Reid adds.

Hotch turns to Jennifer. "Did she check the list we gave her?"

"No, she didn't have a chance."

"I'll tell her to do it," Morgan says.

If Hotch is right about Gillian, that won't work. And Jennifer just stood for her. "It's ok, I'll do it. You guys go get some rest. Tonight's threat was neutralized, so we can pick up afresh on the unsub tomorrow."


	8. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act Two 2-4

When the team leaves the conference room, they find out the office is empty, and the only light still on is Gillian's desk lamp. She's filling a report, Connor drowsing against her shoulder.

Morgan approaches her desk while the others wave at her on their way out. "Where's everybody?"

"I sent them home, to get some rest. We're starting early tomorrow: I wanna do another sweeping before the banks open."

"You think we missed something?"

"No, I think this was a distraction. The threat couldn't be talking about that joke of a bomb. But it proves us right, Morgan. The real thing's gonna be in place for tomorrow morning."

Hotch joins them bringing the list printed in paper and hands it to Gillian, saying in his dry way: "Lieutenant, we really need you to check this list."

Gillian takes it, unexpectedly docile. "Of course. Hey, Morgan, would you give Connor the ride home?"

Morgan frowns. "You're staying?"

She flashes a little smirk. "Reports to finish, lists to check…" —your boss standing here like a damned soldier. She gently pokes Connor. "Hey, baby, wake up."

Connor sits up rubbing his eyes. Morgan smiles down at him. "Let's go, kid, I'm taking you home." Connor stands up in autopilot, kisses Gillian's hair and heads out. Morgan turns to Hotch. "Shall we?"

"I'm helping lieutenant Gillian to go through the list." —or she will never do it.

Gillian scoffs, Morgan flashes a "told-ya" smirk at her. "See, Reg? He just profiled you dead-on. Night, guys, have fun."

While he leaves, Gillian stands up and finds Hotch's stare —where do you think you're going? She smiles at his scowl, not the least bit impressed at it. "Fancy some coffee, agent Hotchner?"

"Don't worry, I'll fetch it."

Gillian sits back down, amused. The man is relentless. But she likes relentless, and the fact that he's not the first to leave, as his rank entitles him to, but rather the other way around. She still remembers seeing him working around the clock back in 2009

So for the relentless workaholic's sake, she picks the list and finally reads it.

When Hotch comes back with a coffee mug for her, she shakes her head. "I know all the names in this list."

Hotch sits opposite to her, taking his first real chance to study her as they speak.

"Anyone you think would do something like this?"

"Many of them. I think we could strike out a few, though… Bronson… Jackson, Kim… Morris, O'Connell… Sutton… Vazquez…"

"Why?"

"Because they're real alpha males, the others just brag. Morgan taught us a bomber is basically a massive coward."

She's stepping out of her turf here and Hotch doesn't like it. Wild speculations can send the whole case in the wrong direction. She's not a profiler but she's trying to pose as one. So Hotch delivers a little of the real thing.

"Yes, but we think this unsub fits better the profile of a narcissist than that of a traditional bomber."

He's a little surprised when she picks it right away, wording it exactly as he himself did back in the jet.

"You mean explosives are only his weapon of choice because of his expertise?"

"Yes."

"Well, that puts those names on top of the list."

He keeps studying her. Good instinct working with her intelligence, he's giving her that. She's just seen right through what he was implying.

But that doesn't narrow the list.

"Did you work with any of them?"

"With all of them."

"Did you have any kind of problem with any of them?"

"With all of them."

"Any of them resented you for making it to the TPU instead of them?"

"Your list is lacking some hundreds of names in that category."

Is she bragging about it? Flattery will tell. "Why? You seem to be a good leader, your team seems happy to follow you…"

That's strictly true. Yet she flashes a smirk oozing bitter irony as she looks straight into his eyes. "But I'm a _woman_, agent Hotchner. And having _King_ Gillian in the brass doesn't exactly help."

Not bragging: defensive. She's had to prove herself worthy way harder than her coworkers at every step.

"Then why did you stay in the force?"

"Would you quit the BAU to please those who don't like you?"

It's not quite rhetorical. She wants to know what kind of man is sitting before her.

It doesn't take a profiler to read in Hotch's silence. She smirks wider, somehow satisfied. "Well, that makes two of us."

Hotch's chin points at the list —can we work now?

Gillian looks down at it and sighs, looking suddenly tired. "I'm gonna need more coffee and a quiet while to do this, agent Hotchner. You go, promise you'll have it first thing tomorrow."

Hotch holds up her eyes for a beat, the last assessment. She will. He stands up and heads to the conference room. There he picks files he wants to go through before going to sleep, turns off the lights, walks out.

Gillian is still lost in her paperwork and it's unusual, not being the last one to go home, that somebody else stays behind working after he's done for the day.

She doesn't even register when he leaves.


	9. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act Two 3-4

The day is breaking over the city. While the sun touches the top of the buildings, in the small kitchen, the man is having breakfast. He grabs the phone, presses a button, resumes breakfast with a little smile.

Somewhere in the city, the cell phone attached to the C-4 pack buzzes with an incoming call. According to the screen, the caller is "Death".

Gillian and Hank ride their own cars, Aldana drives the TPU van while Ron sits in the back, checking their scanning equipment. It's nice, driving in the Financial District before the rush hour jams the narrow streets.

Until Hank's scanner starts beeping. He pulls over, calling the others on the radio. "I've got a reading at 25 School St."

Aldana responses right away as she speeds up: "Coming."

Gillian echoes: "Coming. What d'you have there?"

Hank looks around. "Banks, the memorial, lots of stores…"

"Locate the source," says Gillian, hitting the gas.

Hank gets out of the car and starts to slowly scan the sidewalk. The scanner goes crazy by a trash can. Before he can report it, the TPU van pulls over and Aldana jumps out to join him. Ron is coming with a bigger scanner. Gillian pulls over with a squeal right past Hank's car.

"Uniforms and Bomb Squad are on their way," she says. "Hank, keep the cars out."

Hank hurries to the furthest corner to block the street while Ron scans the trash can. Aldana circles it, studying it.

"C-4 wired to a phone," Ron says. "Enough to kill and hurt a lot of people."

"Can you neutralize it?" Gillian asks.

Aldana doesn't hesitate. "Yes, but first we have to remove it from here."

Not a mile away, the BAU team is heading to the TPU office. In one of the SUVs, Hotch drives, Rossi and Reid with him.

"The background checks came clean for all the 86 names, right?" Rossi comments.

Hotch nods. "Like the online screening."

From the backseat, Reid speaks looking out his window. "I was thinking… The unsub wouldn't seek revenge if he had social recognition. We should look for experts without any commendations or public endorsement of their professional achievements."

"That would certainly feed a grudge," Rossi agrees. "And failing to join the TPU was the stressor."

"That was two months ago," Hotch adds. "He took this time to plan how to get back at them."

"He isn't very educated either, or he wouldn't have changed such a classic as Malory," Reid goes on.

Hotch glances at him in the rearview. "He wasn't expecting someone would recognize the quote. He used words that would pass the alert system."

"And by picking Malory, he also compared the TPU with the Knights of the Round Table," Rossi says. "The bravest knights, devoted to right all wrongs and defend the kingdom. That's where he feels he belongs."

Reid flashes a little smile, recalling the one time his mother was at the BAU's conference room, many years ago. "My mother once compared us to them…"


	10. Gillian Saga I-Atalanta - Act Three 1-5

The BAU's SUVs are swerving around scattered cars, toward a thick cloud of smoke rising behind some buildings ahead. The whole team is on speakers with Garcia now.

"Talk to me, baby girl!" Morgan begs.

Garcia speaks in a thread of voice, wet eyes on her screen. "The explosion was at the Free Trade Bank, in Washington and School, where the Bomb Squad was called."

Hotch is steering as to hit the F1 pole position. "What about the TPU team?" he asks, scowl fixed on the street ahead.

"They were there with LT Gillian."

"All of them?" Jennifer asks.

"Only the bombers."

"If they found a bomb and couldn't defuse it, it would be a hard setback for the TPU," Rossi notes.

"If they're still alive," Hotch grunts.

Police is blocking the street covered in debris, but make way for fire trucks and ambulances coming and going. Smoke comes out of a building across the street from the memorial and the trash can. The wailing sirens fill the air.

Right in front of the blasted bank, Gillian is sitting at the back of an ambulance, where a paramedic is tending her arm, her face scratched, all of her sprayed in blood. She lets the EMT work while trying to collect the shattered fragments of the last minutes. Ron securing the bomb, she and Hank going to the Memorial sidewalk to tell the Bomb Squad Leader they got it, Alana strolling across the street to join her, and then… The deafening blast from inside one of the buildings, the gust of fire engulfing the TPU van and Ron, the expansive wave throwing all of them to the ground…

She sees Cook coming straight to her, head-on like an angry bull. "What happened, Gillian!? A bomb almost at the City Hall's gates!?"

Gillian is still too shaken to put up a fight, so she tries to explain: "There were two bombs. We secured one and-"

"Jesus Christ, Gillian!? How the hell did this happen? Aren't you guys supposed to be the best? How could you be fooled like this!?"

Morgan and Hotch are coming to the ambulance from behind Cook. Hotch pauses, sudden anger building up. She's a woman, she's injured, and she may have just saved a lot of lives. And yet Cook is yelling at her like that.

Cook's rant is bound to make a corps react, but before Gillian can get started, Morgan comes running to her, dead worried. "Reg! You ok?"

Cook spins around and his anger spikes up at recognizing him. But Morgan ignores him to go to Gillian's side. So Cook takes it out on Gillian some more. "You called the FBI! I never authorized this! Last night, I gave you green light only for the TPU!"

Hotch materializes by the man and forces himself to remain calm and ignore the tinkling in his fingers.

"Captain Cook? I'm Special Agent Hotchner, with the FBI-"

"What!" Cook yells at him.

Hotch is a whole head taller and coldly glowers down at him. "Captain, a word."

Jennifer comes to check on Gillian while Hotch signals Cook to go a few steps away. Cook follows snorting.

Hotch scowls at him. "Captain, we're here to help, and lieutenant Gillian was right to ask for our assistance."

Cook's not making a secret of his agenda. "Of course! We waste our taxes in an elite group and they can't even defuse a damned bomb without blowing up half the city! And bringing the feds in!"

"Sir, Gillian correctly assessed the threat and her team neutralized another bomb late last night."

"And they missed this one!"

"They didn't. Without their early search, this bomb would've gone off in the rush hour, and you would be counting bodies by the dozen."

"That's not enough! The bomb didn't have to go off at all! And it sure doesn't justify Gillian calling you, when she can request all the backup she needs from our department! So thank you very much, mister Special Agent, but we're taking this from here!"

Hotch's just had enough of Cook. His voice is meant to trigger an ice age. "Let me remind you that banks are federal territory, Captain. I don't need your permission to investigate this attack."

Cook is far past furious, ready for the final blow.

"This killer won't stop until he's caught. He will strike again soon, and he's one of yours, Captain. So we're staying. To help."

Hotch leaves Cook to stomach the insight and joins the others by the ambulance.


	11. Gillian Saga I-Atalanta - Act Three 2-5

Morgan turns to him grimacing. "All of Reg's experts are in the hospital. One of them in bad shape."

Hotch sees that behind Morgan, Gillian shakes off the paramedic's hands and stands up. Jennifer grabs her good arm when she pauses, not to stagger.

"Hotch, I'd like to go to the hospital," Morgan goes on. "They've seen his work, maybe they can give us something."

Hotch nods, watching how the paramedic stands before Gillian, trying to cut her way. "You need to go to the hospital!"

Gillian shoots a legit death glare at him and snarls: "Out of my way." And the paramedic steps aside.

Jennifer tries persuasion. "He's right, you know? You really should go with the ambulance."

Regarding she means well, Gillian simply ignores her and signals at a police officer passing by. He hurries to her. "Lieutenant?"

"I need a ride to my office," she grunts. "My car is… well, all over…"

"Yes, ma'am. This way."

Jennifer trades a look with Hotch, who nods, and they leave with the officer. Rossi and Reid are coming from taking a first look around.

Rossi shakes his head, concerned. "This was meant to cause a disaster, Hotch."

Reid details: "There's a school around the corner, private institutes, three banks, these stores. An hour from now, hundreds of people would be passing by."

Hotch nods taking a deep breath. Just like Rossi said: this could've been a disaster. Four agents prevented it. Three of them are in the hospital, and the fourth is not there too only out of stubbornness, knowing somebody has to stay and fight the solitary battle against politics and budgets to keep saving lives.

In the backseat of the police cruiser, Jennifer hangs up her phone and smiles at Gillian. "Morgan is going to check on your agents, he'll keep us posted."

Gillian nods, her eyes suddenly full of tears. She looks down and speaks in a whisper full of guilt and remorse: "I— I didn't see it coming… We were so worried about the bomb we did find that I never though…" She trails off with a shaky breath.

"There was no way you could've known. None of you," Jennifer gently says, knowing exactly how she's feeling.

Gillian takes a beat to put herself together, then she meets Jennifer's eyes. "Thanks, agent Jareau…"

Jennifer flashes a warm smile at her. "It's JJ."


	12. Gillian Saga I- Atalanta - Act Three 3-5

Morgan softly knocks on the door and steps into the hospital room. Aldana is lying in bed, hardly conscious, traces of burns and cuts, plugged to oxygen and monitoring equipment.

Hank is sitting by her bed wearing a hospital gown and some cuts and bruises. He wasn't so close to the explosion.

"Hey, Hank…"

Hank looks up at once. "Morgan! How's Reg?"

"You know her. How's Al?"

"She'll live…"

Morgan approaches the bed. "Hank, I need you to tell me all you can about the bombs."

Hank is about to speak when they see nurses and doctors running to the next room. He tries to stand up. "That's Ron's room!" he cries.

Morgan stops him, already heading out. "I'll check on him. You stay here with Al."

Still at the memorial, Hotch grimaces at Morgan's news on the phone and hangs up. Rossi is coming out of the blasted bank talking to the leader of the Bomb Squad, and he joins Hotch.

"Reid's still inside. It was C-4 with enough nails to rip apart whoever survived the blast. The unsub is getting creative to act out his rage."

Hotch shakes his head. "We need to find him, and we're gonna need help."

Rossi studies him and frowns. "What is it, Hotch?"

"Morgan called: one of the TPU agents just died in the hospital." Hotch looks around, spots Cook a few yards away and hurries to him. "Captain!"

Cook forces a smile when he turns to face him. "Special Agent…?"

Jennifer gives her phone to Gillian with a sad grimace. Gillian takes it to her ear, listens, gives it back to Jennifer without a word, her eyes fixed ahead, a tear rolling down her face.

When they walk into the TPU office, she manages it to hold up Tanya and Kurt, who drop their work as soon as they see her, devastated by the news.

Jennifer notices Gillian clenches her teeth, forcing herself to hold it up as she hugs Tanya, crying her heart out against Gillian's chest. And after so many years in the BAU, Jennifer can tell the way Gillian is parenting and caring about her agents, putting their needs before hers, is pure team leader's instinct kicking in.

The door to Aldana's room opens and Hank invites Morgan in, looking pretty shaken up. Morgan raises his eyebrows. "You sure, Hank? I can come back later on…"

Hank shakes his head. "Let's do this now, Morgan. You guys gotta find this scumbag."

"Okay…" Morgan walks into the room.

When Hotch, Rossi and Reid come back to the TPU office, Gillian is working at her desk with Connor.

She's wearing clean clothes, long-sleeve shirt to hide the bandages in her arm, her bun gone so her hair helps to conceal a little the scratches on her face.

Jennifer is sitting with Tanya and excuses herself to join them in the conference room and fill them in: "Garcia pulled the personal sheets of everyone in the list, and I gave them a quick profile to help them in their search."

"How's the team holding up?" Rossi asks.

"Regan talked to them and they're working even harder than before."

Rossi smiles. "Regan, we're already in first name basis..."

Jennifer shrugs as Hotch turns to her. "And how is she holding up?"

Is Reid who answers, grimacing as he looks through the inner window at what remains of the TPU: "The unsub killed one of her agents and sent two more to the hospital. How would _you_ be…"

Hotch knows Reid is not reproaching him anything, but just pointing out the similarities between him and Gillian as team leaders. And even in this situation, he's almost tempted to smile at how this woman is getting one by one to all of them.

Right then both elevators open and Gillian stands sharply up, spotting Cook coming in with 15 Detectives from different precincts.

"They're here," Reid warns.

"That was fast," Hotch ironizes.

Rossi sighs. "Now the unsub is a cop killer, they're more willing to help."


	13. Gillian Saga I- Atalanta - Act Three 4-5

Cook goes to Gillian, who's very stiffen standing by her desk, and shakes her hand with a proper grimace. "I'm sorry for Ron, Gillian, we all are. He was one fine guy." She just nods, really wishing she could slap him.

The BAU team comes from the conference room and Cook approaches Hotch. Jennifer goes to Gillian, who's watching how all the Detectives flood her small office.

"Captain Cook selected this Detectives to help us find the unsub," she explains, trying to smooth the tense air. "We're about to deliver the profile, and they're gonna need a copy of the list we're working on."

Gillian only nods at Connor, who types on the computer. With a quick smile, Jennifer goes to join the team to stand before the Detectives.

Hotch starts the profile, as usual: "We're looking for a white male in his forties. He applied to join the TPU and failed, so we know he's a law enforcement in active service."

"He's a paranoid narcissist," Rossi goes on. "Someone with a distorted self-image, which makes him believe he's better than those around him, and that everything is meant to harm him."

"He's not able to keep any kind of relationship," Reid explains. "So he's most likely single, and has no friends. His social awkwardness causes his coworkers to avoid him."

"He has a bad temper," Hotch says. "Irritable, prone to rants, and complains about others' supposed lack of skill."

"This contempt for his coworkers can be the reason why his professional achievements have never been acknowledged," Jennifer adds. "Depriving him of the recognition and respect he thinks he deserves."

"And this," says Rossi. "Confronted with his distorted self-image, makes him take others' achievements as a personal offense."

"He also likes to pose as more educated than he actually is in intellectual subjects, such as literature and arts in general," Reid notes.

"He applied to join the TPU convinced he has more than it takes to be a part of it. And failing triggered all the grudges and imaginary offenses he's mustered for years, to focus on this unit," Jennifer explains.

"So now he's determined to show the world he's better than the selected agents," Rossi points. "And that's the reason behind this morning's bombing. Because in his mind, he deserves to be a part of this unit."

"Needless to say time is of the essence here," Hotch reminds them. "In order to prevent more attacks and the death of more innocent people, like your colleague Ron Bellison."

"We're working on a list of possible names," Jennifer says. "The TPU analysts have it, so please make sure you take a copy with you when you leave."

"Thank you," Hotch finishes.

A split second later, Tanya is delivering copies of the list to the Detectives. Cook calls Rossi, introduces him to some Detectives, they ask him something. Two other Detectives come to Reid with questions.

Jennifer glances up at Hotch, follows his eyes and finds Gillian. She's turned her back to everybody and is sitting shoulder to shoulder with Connor, as the boy works on her computer. Yes, they would also want to turn their backs to those who refused to help until somebody's blood was spilled.


	14. Gillian Saga I- Atalanta - Act Three 5-5

At the hospital, Hank is sitting on the edge of Aldana's bed. She's weak but lucid, and Morgan asks his questions. Aldana answers slowly, taking her time to breathe.

"The second bomb didn't go off until the Bomb Squad arrived, right? Could he be monitoring you through a police scanner?"

"It exploded when Ron secured the first bomb. It was a boom-boom situation. If we screwed up with the first bomb, it would've exploded in our faces. Securing it remotely activated the second bomb."

"Last night's device was rather simple, and small. But now we're talking about something efficient and sophisticated…"

"Yes. He activates both bombs with a single remote trigger —the phone. He calls the phones attached to the bombs and they stay linked, like an ongoing telephonic conference. If one of the receivers 'hang up', the other one goes off."

"And what if you 'hang up' from the phone making the call?"

"That would do the trick. Maybe. I can't tell you for sure without analyzing the circuits."

"This takes both explosives and electronics background," notes Hank. "Lots of."

"Just what the TPU required on the selection process…" Morgan says.

"Among other things. I know little about bombs, I'm a biochemist."

"Yeah! I remember your prank with the sugar!"

The three of them take a moment to chuckle at the memory, then Morgan goes on: "What range can this remote have?"

Aldana grimaces. "We'd need to see it, but he's using cell phones, so the range depends on the coverage."

"Meaning he can be at the other end of the city…"

"The main trigger could. The devices cannot be too far from each other, but we're talking a couple of hundred yards, anyway."

"Any name that comes to your mind?"

"Police experts are a tight circle in town. But there's no telling in other states, or people from military background."

"You guys need to be careful now," Hank warns. "With Ron… gone, and Al here, you have the two best experts in town outta the picture."

"You mean we can't trust the department's Bomb Squad?"

"Yes, you can," Aldana says. "But they're just a little… hasty. This scumbag would have a field day with them."

In the TPU conference room, Hotch hangs up his phone. "Morgan says we need to look for somebody highly trained in both electronics and explosives," he says.

Jennifer looks out the inner window and sees Gillian's just sharply stood up. "Tanya, you're up!" she's saying.

The speaker phone rings and Reid takes the call. "Garcia?"

Garcia is on edge. "Another threat just came in!"

Reid turns on the screen with the new email. Rossi reads aloud: "_Hope is a good breakfast, but is a bad supper_…"

"That's Sir Francis Bacon," Reid points.

"The sender is still online!" Garcia says.

Rossi frowns. "_Bad supper_… He's striking again tonight!"


	15. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act Four 1-5

Gillian stands by Connor, while he, Tanya and Kurt are working into warp. "Kurt! Wait for Penelope to track the IP and access all the security cameras in a ten-streets radio!"

In the conference room, the team is around the speaker phone.

"Garcia?" Hotch urges.

Garcia is typing the hell cold. "Almost there!"

"Be ready!" Gillian warns her techies. "We need eyes on him!"

"It's another internet café!" Garcia says. "I'm sending the address to your GPS!"

The team hurries out.

Tanya cries: "Theatre District! I've got him!"

"Feed it to Penelope!" Gillian orders.

She spots the BAU team leaving, snatches a paper from her desk and cuts Hotch's way when he's walking out of the conference room. She shows him the printed list looking straight into his eyes, death serious.

"Help me. You're sure the bastard is in this list, right? Then please, agent Hotchner, help me open my eyes and see him."

Hotch conceals his surprise and glances past her: the TPU techies are working with Garcia, his team is on the move. Then he nods, invites her in and closes the door.

Morgan is walking down a hospital hallway when his phone rings.

"Hey, angel…" his face darkens as he listens to Garcia, and he hangs up scowling, pressing on to the exit as he dodges people.

Garcia is working on several screens with security feeds, with both SUVs and the TPU techies linked over the phone.

"Pillbug, get the rendering ready."

"Running," Connor replies right away.

"You still have him?" Morgan asks, hitting the gas.

"He's still in the café," Tanya says. "Where are you, guys?"

Jennifer looks out her window. "Massachusetts and Shawmut."

"What the hell are you doing there?" Tanya growls. "Don't tell me you're following GPS directions! In Boston! Agent Rossi, turn north in Harrison. Morgan, where are you?"


	16. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act Four 2-5

Isolated in the conference room, Hotch and Gillian are sitting at the table.

He's still a bit surprised at the way she's openly asked for his particular help, when it's plain to see she feels more comfortable around everybody else. He certainly didn't expect such a categorical acknowledgement from her. But he's not letting it slip away.

Once more, Gillian feels the laser scan in Hotch's eyes scrutinizing her and she's somehow glad. Because there's no time for explanations and she doesn't need to explain a damn thing to him: he sees, he knows. Way further and better than anyone else she's ever met before.

And right now she doesn't give a damn about the thousand things Hotch openly dislikes about her. Actually she wants it this way. She doesn't want to befriend him. She needs his eyes and his wits to figure out Ron's killer, using her as a tool. This cold distant man will whip her senseless in order to keep her focused. And she's more than happy to oblige.

Hotch's brought a pile of files, and when he says a name, he gives Gillian a picture.

"I want you to describe me these men one by one, in a few words," he calmly explains. "Bill Sheppard."

Gillian answers straight away. "King of bullies with a fan club."

"Sam Thompson."

"War vet, plenty of medals and fame."

Hotch strikes out the names as she speaks. "Oliver Kendall."

"He'd sell all of his commendations for a-. For sex."

Garcia alerts everybody: "He's leaving! Pillbug, run the perspective rendering on him!"

Connor does and scowls, leaning to his screen. "It's not him. I mean, he's the one who sent the mail, but not the same from last night. He looks my age."

"Stay on him anyway," Morgan urges.

"He's on the move," Kurt warns.

Garcia rolls her chair across her tech room. "He's heading to a park! We're gonna lose him!"

"Don't worry, they're almost there," Tanya replies.

Hotch hands Gillian another picture. "Franklin Woods."

"A frigging genius. We were actually very surprised he didn't score enough."

Hotch checks his file. "He did, but he failed the psych eval. Tell me more about him."

"A bitter loner and a pain to work with. He must've really resented us for scoring better than him."

Hotch sums up Woods' records: "45, training in both explosives and electronics. No commendations in 25 years of service. Single, no family in the area… Fits the profile."

Gillian closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, they're bright wet. She clings to anger not to break down. "Son of a bitch!"

She stands roughly up, avoiding eye contact with Hotch, and goes to the window opening to the street, turning her back to him.

"He worked with Ron for two years! How could he-?" Gillian trails off, regretting the outburst and really hoping Hotch won't go off script to pat her back and try to comfort her. But he doesn't let her down. He keeps quiet, respecting her choice to try to wall up her emotions.

The speaker phone rings, he connects. "Garcia…"

"Sir, it's not the unsub, but they're chasing him anyway."

"Send them a picture of Franklin Woods, he's our unsub."

"Yes, sir!"

Hotch disconnects and turns to Gillian. Now she's tightly folded her arms across her chest and stays very still, looking out the window, exhaling her emotions at every breath. And it's plain reverse psychology working on somebody like him.

She's keeping it all so to herself, hiding both her physical wounds and her feelings to stay fighting in the front line, turning to him to stay focused and in control, expecting him not only to do his job with his usual efficiency, but mostly to keep the distance.

Hotch realizes all of this and how he feels compelled to bridge over to her. So he offers what he has to offer, but it's a promise: "We'll get him."

Gillian wouldn't face him yet, but she replies, through clenched teeth: "Yes, we will."


	17. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act Four 3-5

Morgan pulls over on Charles St and he runs across the street to the public garden. He soon spots the boy wearing the unsub's hoodie, so he draws his gun and starts approaching him in a slightly crosswise line.

Behind them, Rossi, Jennifer and Reid are hurrying out of their SUV. Rossi points at Morgan, Reid goes to him, while Jennifer and Rossi head straight ahead after the boy.

The boy glances over his shoulder and sprints away, the team chases him down.

"FBI! STOP!" Morgan thunders.

But the boy keeps running. Morgan catches up, Jennifer close behind, and he jumps on the boy, tackling him down. The boy squirms, trying to escape, but Morgan pins him down and roughly cuffs him. The others are already with him.

"You can't arrest me!" the boy cries. "I'm 16!"

"Kid, you just sent a bomb threat," Morgan snarls.

"What!? You nuts!? I just sent this dude's message for a chick!"

Reid shows him Woods' picture on his phone. "This man's message?"

Hotch, Gillian and the techies are around Connor, who has on screen a distant image of the team in the park with the boy, shown from a street camera at a corner.

Hotch's phone rings and he takes the call on speakers. "Dave…"

Rossi steps away from the others to speak. "Hotch, the boy identified the unsub. Woods paid him $50 to send the mail wearing his sweater."

"Does he know Woods?"

"No. He approached him on the street, not an hour ago."

Gillian is already instructing her techies: "One hour, lads! Theatre District! Find Woods and follow him!"

Hotch hangs up and calls Garcia, who's a little more relaxed now, enough to greet him with a: "Speak, oh, wise one."

"Garcia, pull everything you have on Franklin Woods."

"It's already in your tablets, sir."

"Do we have an address?"

"We do. It's in Roxbury."

"Send it to captain Cook."

He disconnects to find Gillian's scowl. "You're letting _them_ arrest him!?"

Hotch's not fond of wasting time in explanations, but considering the situation, he quickly does: "He won't be there. It's a highly populated area, so he needs a secondary location to assemble the bombs. But we need this checked anyway."

Gillian is already searching her desk. Without looking up from the computer, Connor hands her the car keys. "Text me the address, son."

It's Hotch's turn to scowl. "Where do you think you're doing?"

"I'm not trusting this to Cook's wits, agent Hotchner," she replies, already striding to the door.

Hotch turns to Connor. Only now he realizes he's somehow agreed to keep the boy involved in this, pretty much since they got here. So. "Please have Garcia send the address to my team."

Gillian is holding the door open. Hotch hurries to her and stretches his hand out. Gillian surrenders the car keys without a word.

The police is already inside Wood's house when Hotch and Gillian arrive, so they wait by her car, amongst the police cruisers. The rest of the team joins them at the same time that uniforms and SWAT agents come out. Cook spots Hotch and shakes his head.

"He's not been here in a while," he says.

Hotch turns to the team. "Reid, Rossi, see what you can find."

Cook considers to object. Then he considers some more and shuts his mouth, as they head to the house.

Morgan turns to Gillian. "I just come from the hospital, Reg. Don't worry about Al and Hank, they're fine." She nods looking away. Morgan reads the guilt on her face and grimaces. "Don't do this to yourself, Reg," he gently says, pressing her shoulder.

Jennifer signals Hotch to join her putting her phone on speakers. "Garcia may have something," she says. "Go ahead, _kitten_."

Garcia takes her moment of gloating. "I was thinking, where could this cruel man be hiding? What would be a good place to build his hideous bombs? So I pulled a list of vacant houses and warehouses, and looked for overlaps with records of recent use of energy, and found ten places the unsub can be using."

"Send us the addresses," Hotch says.

Garcia smirks wider. "I already did. Garcia out."

Jennifer picks her tablet from the SUV and shows it to Hotch, who shakes his head, flustered. "We don't have time to search each and every one. JJ, go with Rossi and Reid, tear the place apart and find something we can use."

Jennifer hurries to the house as Hotch goes back to Gillian and Morgan. He gives the tablet to Gillian. He can actually wait for the other three to canvas Woods' place, but by now he's positive that any direction Gillian can give them it's going to be a good one.

"Lieutenant, Garcia gave us these possible addresses for Woods' secondary location. Can you take a look at them?"

"We're looking for a secluded place," Morgan explains. "Where he can keep his materials and work without being disturbed or seen."

Gillian checks the list and flags two of the addresses in a map of the city. "These two are secluded-"

"And in opposite sides of the city," Hotch snarls. He strides away to the house.

He finds Reid flicking through old mail while Jennifer searches the rest of the room. "Gillian pointed two of the addresses," he tells them. "So we're splitting up. Reid, you stay here and find anything to confirm any of the locations."

He trails off when Rossi comes from the bedroom with a scrapbook. "I think I found it," Rossi says, showing them a newspaper's chronicle about the Bomb Squad finding explosives in a building under construction.

Hotch compares it with the tablet. "It's one of the addresses Gillian picked. Let's go!"


	18. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act Four 4-5

The five-story building was never quite finished. It's still surrounded by a wire fence, and abandoned construction materials and tools are scattered all over the bare ground yard around it.

The SUVs drive into the lot with a SWAT truck, several cruisers and the Bomb Squad truck. They all jump out of the vehicles and get ready to breach the building. SWAT takes the lead. The Bomb Squad and the BAU with Gillian follow up close, as uniforms bring the rear.

The Bomb Squad find an explosive device with a cell phone right at the building's entrance. They carefully remove it as the team trades a look: they're in the right place, and Woods is waiting for them.

SWAT breaks in and spreads out, as the team leads the uniforms to the stairwell.

Then a phone rings. Everybody freezes.

Nothing explodes and they really appreciate it.

Now they can turn to glare at the officer who's taking the call in a puzzle. He looks up at Gillian, handing her his phone. "He wants to speak to you…," he mutters.

As Gillian takes the phone, Morgan is already calling Garcia to track the call. The BAU surrounds Gillian as she puts the call on speakers. "Frank…" is her dry greeting.

Woods' voice sounds calm and cold. "Come up, Gillian. I'm in apartment 324. And please extend the invitation to your BAU friends."

"To blow us up, like you did to Ron? Jesus, Frank! He was your friend!"

"Friend! Like you? Come up and we can talk about it face to face."

The whole team shakes their heads, so she says: "I have a little limp after this morning, you know? Thanks to you. So why don't you come down to meet us?"

Morgan signals the others that the tracking shows that Woods is there.

"I'm waiting, Gillian," Woods snarls, and hangs up.

They all trade a concerned look.

It's Rossi who words what they're thinking: "This man is ready to blow up the building; he doesn't care to die."

Hotch turns to Morgan. "There has to be more explosives in here. Help the Bomb Squad to find them. We're going up."

Morgan frowns. "What? You can't do that before they clear the building!"

"He wants to see lieutenant Gillian," Reid says. "He wouldn't sabotage her way to his apartment. It'd ruin his end game."

"But he's gonna blow you guys up as soon as she walks through his door!" Morgan insists.

Hotch looks straight at Gillian. "Lieutenant, you're staying here with Morgan."

Gillian holds up his eyes and blinks, like he just stabbed her in the back. And to everybody's surprise —herself included and on top of the list, she stays behind with Morgan when Hotch leads the team to the stairs.

Four SWAT agents precede the team and two Squads upstairs. They don't bother to check every apartment, they just go on to the next flight of stairs, not stopping up to the third floor and the door to apartment 324.

Hotch's voice thunders the corridor: "FRANKLIN WOODS! FBI!"

There's no answer and SWAT slams the door open. The Squads check the doorway for tricky devices and find none. They all storm in.

Woods is in the kitchen, standing by the table with a placid smile, back turned to the door. He smiles wider hearing all the guns and rifles cocked behind him. Then he slowly raises his hands: one of them is holding a phone.

He turns around always smiling. He's wearing an explosive vest with a cell phone attached to it, its screen reading "ACTIVE".

His tone matches his placid smile. It's good to be so smart and so ready. "Welcome agents, ma'am. Where's Gillian?"

One of the Squads tries a step closer. It takes Woods a single glance to make him step back. Stupid green-shot. Then he turns to Hotch. "Send for her. You have three minutes," he says.

Hotch nods at Jennifer holstering his gun. She walks out whispering on her radio.

"She's coming," Hotch says, eyes fixed in Woods.


	19. Gillian Saga I - Atalanta - Act Four 5-5

Gillian's pacing near the stairs, really pissed off, wondering how the hell did this happen, how did she let this man —this _stranger_ impose himself to her like that. She knows it's in her guts, and right now she's hating her guts for being wiser than herself. She should've seen it when she was ok with him driving her car to Woods' place, when she _never_ lets _anybody_ drive her car.

But she's been surrounded by so many stupid wanna-be alphas all of her life, her guts can tell a good leader when they see one. The only problem is her guts have been craving for too long to follow a good leader, but this is not the time for bending a knee and taking loyalty oaths.

Morgan listens to his radio and hurries to her. "They got'im, Reg. Now come with me." He tries to grab her arm, she steps back. Enough bossing around for the day.

"Woods has a vest," Morgan urgently explains. "And he wants you upstairs."

Her eyes widen as she sprints to the stairs, everything suddenly crystal clear. "Call everybody in, Morgan!" she cries, running upstairs. "There's a bomb outside the building!"

Woods glances at the door and smirks at Hotch and Rossi. "You sent her out, didn't you? So predictable. Bye-bye, Gillian."

Rossi and Hotch move at the same time: Rossi shoots Woods as Hotch jumps on him, snatching the phone from his hand. Woods falls, but before dying, he gets to press the phone in his vest.

"OUT! EVERYBODY OUT!" Hotch shouts.

The team, SWAT, the Squads, everybody runs to the stairs. Gillian meets them at the second floor and blocks their way. "Out of the stairs!" she yells.

"The bomb is outside!" Morgan shouts, catching up.

Hotch directs everybody out of the stairs.

At that exact moment, the cell phone beeps on the device the Bomb Squad removed, inside the safe container. And the Bomb Squad truck parked outside the building explodes.

Two complete units of the Bomb Squad work for hours in the five-story building, and they're only done after the night closes. Then the Squad Leader removes his helmet with an exhausted sigh and goes to the BAU team, waiting by their SUVs.

"It's clear," he announces. "We've searched the whole building and there's no trace of other devices. We're leaving now."

He walks away as Rossi smiles at the team. "Let's go, dinner's on me."

Morgan looks around and frowns. "Where's Reg?"

"She wanted to take a look at Woods' apartment," Jennifer says.

"I'll get her…," Hotch sighs, and heads in no hurry to the building.

Morgan turns to the others in a puzzle. "Excuse me?"

"If you go, she'd find a way to stay," Rossi replies. "But she will do as Hotch says."

Morgan frowns. "Did I miss something?"

"She's sort of accepted Hotch's lead," Reid shrugs.

"Ouch!"

Jennifer pats Morgan's arm smiling. "Don't worry, we love you too, you know."

They laugh as they head to the SUVs.

_They've hardly taken a step when the ground shakes, and an explosion from the fourth floor throws them to the ground, under a heavy rain of glass splinters and debris._


End file.
